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“Hey, Joonghyuk-ah.” A brief shifting, shaking of Yoo Joonghyuk’s body, brings him to lucidity. Against his bicep, a movement persists, unwilling to relent even as he releases a huff.
“Joonghyuk-ah, um.” Kim Dokja makes some sound resembling desperation. “Uh, please—wake up.”
Again. That push against his bicep, over and over, like a child trying to get their parents’ attention. Yoo Joonghyuk blinks his bleary eyes, taking in the dark of the night and feels the strange emptiness below his arms. Looking around, he comes face-to-face with Kim Dokja, now sitting up on the bed.
The first thought that comes to Yoo Joonghyuk is that something happened again. Something terrible?
Of course, pregnancy brought strange symptoms to Kim Dokja. Waking up in the middle of the night. Feverish temperatures that made him stray away from Yoo Joonghyuk’s arms. Vomiting in the morning. Nausea whenever luck wasn’t on Kim Dokja’s side. And, most importantly, aches at random times of the day, making it nearly impossible for Kim Dokja to have even a second of rest.
Kim Dokja had tried to hide these symptoms from Yoo Joonghyuk at first. Keyword: tried. Because, while Kim Dokja had been able to hide them for about a day before Yoo Joonghyuk had found out, he was so obvious with what he was doing that Yoo Joonghyuk knew that something was wrong immediately. Only constant pestering and eyes focused on Kim Dokja—he was already doing that anyway, to be fair, even before the pregnancy, and even before they’d finally gotten together—did Yoo Joonghyuk figure out what had happened.
“Bastard,” Kim Dokja had choked out, all the while puking up the lunch he’d just been fed by Yoo Joonghyuk. “Get—ugh, get me some water.”
Scurrying away with his tail between his legs, Yoo Joonghyuk can say that he’d run faster to the kitchen that day than he’s ever done in his entire life.
From that point on, Kim Dokja was under strict watch. And no amount of complaining from his side would change that.
Kim Dokja would always say that Yoo Joonghyuk was treating him like a misbehaving child, but how could he let Kim Dokja escape his attention for even a second? Yoo Joonghyuk knows, that if he lets his attention stray for even a day, Kim Dokja might even go back to eating ramyeon every day, like he had before Yoo Joonghyuk had begun dating him.
And so, the fact that Kim Dokja had woken him up of his own accord did not bode well at all.
If this bastard, so willing to hide his own condition from Yoo Joonghyuk, had woken Yoo Joonghyuk up just to tell him something, wasn’t that inherently a bad sign in and of itself?
Jolting up, Kim Dokja practically flinches as Yoo Joonghyuk grasps onto him. He takes a breath of air, smelling Kim Dokja’s scent.
It’s normal—no notes of anything in particular. Some part of Yoo Joonghyuk’s worry is quelled.
Whenever there’s something terribly wrong with Kim Dokja—aches or sickness—his scent always sours, betraying his state. This smell, normal, a signature sweet of blossoms and vanilla, is enough to assuage Yoo Joonghyuk of his fears, at least a little.
“Bastard… Hey, at least warn me if you’re going to do something like that.”
Yoo Joonghyuk ignores him as he places the back of his hand against Kim Dokja’s forehead. The temperature is normal as well, not indicative of the feverish bursts that would usually come to Kim Dokja’s body.
“Is,”—Yoo Joonghyuk swallows as he thinks up the potential problems that could have arisen in Kim Dokja—“something wrong?”
“Oh.” Kim Dokja looks a little dumbfounded. “No, no. Nothing is wrong. I just… I was craving something.”
“Craving what?” Yoo Joonghyuk slips his feet into his slippers, one step away from running into the kitchen.
“You know… those mandarins you got me last time? And… uh. That mint chocolate chip ice cream?” Kim Dokja’s gaze flickers to the side, a flush growing on his cheeks. “And… um. The tteokbokki you made yesterday?”
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t know what Kim Dokja is trying to get at. Listing random food items? What…
“Uh…” Kim Dokja swallows. “I’ve been craving—all three of them? At once?”
He sounds completely unsure of himself as he continues. “You know—if you could, um. Mix them together and make something, please? I’m a little hungry… and, um. They sound like they’d taste good together?”
Yoo Joonghyuk realizes it’s finally come. The worst pregnancy symptom yet. A food crime, and most importantly… An absolutely demonic food combination. Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrow twitches like crazy.
“Kim Dokja,” he says, a tone full of absolute warning.
“Joonghyuk-ah, the baby,” Kim Dokja reasons, “she’s been craving it. And, I’m hungry. Please, Joonghyuk-ah?”
With Kim Dokja’s eyes gazing upon him in that way—black starry voids practically pleading for him to commit this crime—and Kim Dokja’s scent tinging sweet as he does so, Yoo Joonghyuk can’t help but do something against all of the instincts in his body.
Heading to the kitchen, Kim Dokja scurries along with him, sitting down as Yoo Joonghyuk hurries to get to making his terrible request. Slinging on the apron, Yoo Joonghyuk offers Kim Dokja a weary glance.
“Go back to sleep, Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk gestures back towards their bedroom. “Rest. I’ll wake you up when I’m done.”
“No,” Kim Dokja says. “I want to watch you make it. I’ll just be hungrier if I head back to bed.”
Something in the back of Yoo Joonghyuk’s mind starts to think that Kim Dokja had given him this request, just to see him suffer.
Taking out all the ingredients that Kim Dokja had listed from the fridge, Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes twitch, a vein in his temple throbbing as he tries to think up a way to make this combination presentable.
This was going to be a long night…
After some sort of messing around with the pots, pans, and even the microwave, Yoo Joonghyuk comes out with the scary red of tteokbokki, topped off with mint chocolate chip ice cream and mandarin orange slices. It’s steaming, and yet, cold to the touch, the ice cream on top melting into the red below. It looks like a meal found in those overly expensive restaurants that would cost an arm and a leg to buy, only to taste like absolute shit. More an avant-garde art piece than food, Kim Dokja’s eyes glimmer as they catch onto the sight of the finished meal.
“Wow…” Kim Dokja’s face doesn’t hide his hunger. He looks like he’s about to drool right on the counter as Yoo Joonghyuk places the bowl in front of him.
As soon as Kim Dokja picks up the spoon and the chopsticks, Yoo Joonghyuk’s breath stops. In almost less than a minute Kim Dokja eats like someone participating in a contest, chowing down until there’s nothing left in the bowl. It’s the fastest ever that Yoo Joonghyuk has seen Kim Dokja eat.
“You…”
“That was delicious, Joonghyuk-ah. Wow… You really are talented, huh?” Kim Dokja licks his lips, reaching over to grab a tissue from the opposite end of the counter, before dabbing his face like a food critic. “Could you make this for breakfast in the morning… please?”
Yoo Joonghyuk huffs. “Fine.”
Something tells Yoo Joonghyuk that this demonic meal isn’t the only one that’s going to become a regular in the months of Kim Dokja’s pregnancy.